


Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy

by azirabelle



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Canon Compliant, Dancing, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Love Confessions, No Betas We Fall Like Crowley, Post-Canon, Song: Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy, Songfic, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 05:02:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21350662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/azirabelle/pseuds/azirabelle
Summary: "And so, after much consideration (one has a lot of time to think when parked waiting for one's usual occupants to finish dinner), she decided to take action. She could claim she'd gained a certain perspective from coming back from the dead. Something poetic about never knowing how much time you've got. But really she had simply reached her wits end with the celestial pair's ridiculous pining. They were going to end the night discussing their feelings, or she'd be damned! (Crowley assured her it wasn't so bad anyway)."
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 110





	Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, the Bentley gets fed up with Crowley repeatedly making an a$$ of himself around Aziraphale and decides enough is enough. 
> 
> Also this is my first fanfic I've ever posted anywhere so HERE WE GO I GUESS?????
> 
> Based on two pieces of tumblr art I loved  
https://ymmish.tumblr.com/post/185733765305/i-like-to-imagine-that-bentley-just-fuckin-blasts  
https://purrple-catt.tumblr.com/image/185992173520

The Bentley had been with Crowley for a long time. Perhaps not long in the grand scheme of Crowley’s life, but for almost the entirety of the Bentley’s, and for rather a lot longer than most cars are with a single owner.

Suffice it to say, she had been through a lot with the demon. She’d seen him convince himself he simply had to have this car. She’d seen him rescue Aziraphale from the Nazis, stage an (almost) heist, deliver the antichrist, play nanny for several years, (almost) lose his best friend, and ultimately stop Armaggedon. Hell, she’s literally gone through fire for him and come back from the grave just so they could be reunited. More than anything, however, she’d seen Crowley make an ass of himself time and time again in his hopeless pining over a certain angelic bookshop owner.

And so, after much consideration (one has a lot of time to think when parked waiting for one's usual occupants to finish dinner), she decided to take action. She could claim she'd gained a certain perspective from coming back from the dead. Something poetic about never knowing how much time you've got. But really she had simply reached her wits end with the celestial pair's ridiculous pining. They were going to end the night discussing their feelings, or she'd be damned! (Crowley assured her it wasn't so bad anyway).

* * *

“That was truly delightful, Crowley! Quite a relief to dine in each other’s company without the threat of heaven or hell catching wind of it. And everything was simply scrumptious, don’t you think?” The angel eyed Crowley expectantly.

A lump caught in Crowley’s throat as he thought of how the most scrumptious thing he could see was the adorable angel before him. How could anyone’s eyes be so bright? And it must have been some sort of miracle the way Aziraphale managed to look so stylishly attractive in clothes that were at least fifty years out of date (as well as probably at least that old- how were they still holding together?) And that smile. Crowley had literally hung the stars in the sky and yet he’d never seen anything as breathtaking as Aziraphale’s smile. He wanted to make sure Aziraphale smiled like that as often as possible. Especially if it was aimed at him. Just as he was thinking this, that very smile disappeared, a look of concern in its place.

“Crowley, my dear boy, are you quite alright? You’re looking a bit… lost. And somewhat pink? Are you feeling ill?”

“No, no, angel, I’m fine. Just lost in thought is all. It’s been a bit of a day, and I think my brain’s just a bit fried.”

“Of course! You must be exhausted, my dear. Let’s get you home so you can sleep. I know how much a good nap helps you get back to sorts,” he cooed, fussing over Crowley and leading him gently by the shoulders back to where they’d parked. Somehow, despite not moving at all, the Bentley gave off the feeling that she was pleased to see them, an air of excited anticipation filling the air.

When they reached her, Crowley extricated himself from Aziraphale’s grip, making a show of being offended. “Really angel, I’m fine,” he said, brushing off his shoulders and standing up straighter. He’d meant to come off as irritated, but even to himself, his voice sounded more fond than anything. “There’s no need to make such a fuss. I’m over 6000 years old for…. Someone’s sake. And it’s not as though I really _need _ to sleep. It’s more of a pastime really. A bit of sloth to keep up my demonic vices and all that. Now, get in the car, Aziraphale. You must be dying to see your newly restored bookshop with your own eyes.” He opened the door for Aziraphale, and the angel slid into the seat, his eyes glowing with excitement as he contemplated seeing his beloved books all good as new.

“I would like that,” he smiled sweetly as Crowley turned the ignition, pulling out of the spot and onto the road.

As they sped through the streets of London on their way to Soho, the Bentley decided to put her plan into motion. Feeling incredibly pleased with herself, she began playing music quietly in the background.

The song started off so softly, Crowley didn’t recognize it at first, but as it slowly gained volume, he flushed with embarrassment. He focused on getting to the bookshop as quickly as possible, ignoring the music as best he could. Gritting his teeth, he almost cursed loudly when the song got to the bit about dining at the Ritz. “Bentley, you’re on thin fucking ice,” he mumbled under his breath.

Unknown to Crowley, beside him, Aziraphale was smiling fondly at the flustered demon, amused and slightly flushed himself.

‘Perfect,’ thought the Bentley. ‘Now time to bring it home.’ And she blasted her speakers as loudly as possible, filling the car with Freddy Mercury’s “OOOOOOOO LOVE! OOOOOOO LOVER BOY, WHATCHA DO-“ but that was as far as she got before Crowley shut her off entirely.

“Ah. Look at that. We’re here,” he announced. And indeed, when Aziraphale looked out the window, he saw that they had made it to his bookshop much faster than they should have been able to, even with Crowley’s driving.

“Crowley, my dear did you-“

“Was getting tired of driving. Figured a little demonic miracle couldn’t hurt. Besides, I thought you would be thrilled to see your precious books all safely back in your shop.”

“Oh. Well of course,” Aziraphale brightened at the mention of his books. “Thank you, Crowley. That was very thoughtful of you.” Crowley grumbled as Aziraphale walked past him into the shop.

Immediately, Aziraphale went about the task of examining his books, although not as thoroughly as Crowley had expected. “All present and accounted for! Not sure the new additions are exactly my taste, but it was so very sweet of Adam to share them with me, I’ll keep them anyway.”

“You’re not going to go through each book to make sure they’re all unharmed? Who are you and what have you done to my angel?” At his own words, Crowley froze, realizing the implications of what he’d just said. Shit, would Aziraphale notice?

Aziraphale had, in fact, noticed and turned to Crowley, the same look of shock on his face. However, as Crowley’s was quickly making its way towards horror, Aziraphale’s face had morphed into one of curiosity and contemplation. He slowly crossed the room and moved to take off Crowley’s glasses, pausing to allow Crowley to pull away. When he didn’t, Aziraphale removed them gently and set them aside.

“Crowley, I…. I liked the song you played in the Bentley on our way back. Not my usual style, but the lyrics were quite sweet.”

“Angel, I…. I don’t pick the music. She does.”

“Oh. Well, all the same I liked it. The lyrics seemed rather fitting, don’t you think?”

“I… ngk…. I’m not sure what you mean…”

“We did dine at the Ritz tonight. And here we are back at my place. Much like the lyrics of the song.”

“Angel did you miss the other part of the song? The bit where it says the two people in the song are… are…”

“Lovers? No, my darling, I don’t think I could have missed that with the way the Bentley practically screamed it at us,” he chuckled to himself softly, then looked up at Crowley, impossibly fond and gentle. “No, I know we’re not exactly lovers, Crowley, but…. I suppose what I’m trying to say is I’ll be your angel if you’ll have me?”

Crowley was reeling. There was so much to unpack from just those short sentences. Aziraphale saying the word lovers like that, dripping with every possible meaning of the word (and even some impossible meanings). Aziraphale calling him “my darling.” That fond look! The offer of _himself!! _Crowley didn’t know where to begin, frozen still with all the possibilities this offered him… them! The two of them! Finally together how he’d always wanted! Suddenly, he realized he’d been silent and still for far too long, and Aziraphale was starting to look confused and a bit troubled. That wouldn’t do. He threw himself at the angel, embracing him tightly.

“Yes, of course I’ll have you, you glorious bastard!”

“_Your_ glorious bastard,” the angel shot back smugly.

“_Yessssss. _Mine, all mine. No one _elssssee _can have you.”

“I don’t want anyone else the way I want you, my darling. I love you.”

“Oh, angel. Aziraphale, I’ve loved you since… well as long as I can remember to be embarrassingly honest.”

Aziraphale didn’t have any words to respond to this, so instead he pulled back slowly and guided Crowley’s lips to his own. The kiss was gentle and sweet, and Crowley sighed into it. And then Aziraphale was bringing his beautifully manicured hands up to Crowley’s scalp and gently running them through Crowley’s hair, the bastard chuckling again as he broke the kiss. And there were those starlight eyes, gazing lovingly at Crowley, and he could hardly take it.

“Would you like to dance?” The question was out of his mouth before he’d even begun to process what he was about to say. But he didn’t take it back. Instead he extended his hand and waited expectantly for Aziraphale’s response.

The angel’s eyes went wide, and he stammered a bit before saying, “You know I can only dance the gavotte, Crowley. And I hardly think that’s what you had in mind.”

Crowley extended his had further. “Come on, angel. I’ll lead. You’ll do just fine.”

“A-alright.” Aziraphale took the proffered hand and stepped closer hesitantly. With a snap of his other hand, Crowley dimmed the lights and the song that brought them finally together began to play.

Outside, the Bentley whirred smugly as an angel and a demon danced the night away.


End file.
